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while. I should get home around five-thirty so —”
    “Great! Antoine will pick you up at quarter past six!”
    Suzanne banged her head against her hand. She should have known. “Mother. You didn’t say anything about Antoine being there this evening.”
    “You said you had a nice time! And he knows some of the same people as your father. It’s really no big deal, Suzanne. It hardly even counts as a date.”
    “Seeing each other two nights in a row is a bit… much, Mother.” She’d barely made it through dinner last night. Now she had to endure one of the interminable cocktail parties her father and his cronies through with the man?
    Her mother made the fizzling, dismissive noise again. “It’s just drinks, dear. I’m not asking you to marry him.”
    The ‘yet’ was implicit. Suzanne gritted her teeth.
    “Fine. A few drinks. That’s it!”
    “Of course, dear. What else would it be? I’ll see you tonight!”
    The line clicked before she could come to her senses and tell her mother Antoine was a boor and rude and she didn’t want to ever see him again, let alone show up as a couple to Daddy’s function.
    She remembered how stilted their conversation had been at Les Halles the night before, and imagined the stuffy, boring gathering she’d most likely be facing later with the added spice of having the music-hating, Michael Bay-loving, non-reading, fat-shaming, ultra conservative Antoine constantly at her side.
    Oh, joy.
    Her gaze lit on the bright blooms Brandon had sent her, and she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if he was her date to the cocktail party. A grin split her cheeks as she imagined his booming laugh rolling through her parent’s parlor, his glittering with good humor, his muscled form easily dwarfing the staid suits from her father’s firm.
    What would he wear? Did the earthy blond own a suit? He would look fabulous in one, Suzanne had no doubt. But he didn’t seem like the suit type. And honestly, he’d look good in anything.
    She pictured him lounging in one of the elaborately carved, antique fabric upholstered chaise lounges in the fitted t-shirt and relaxed jeans he’d been wearing earlier. Despite the incongruity of the image, it was an undeniably hot one.
    And she had not one little doubt that the party would fly by for her had Brandon was escorting her. Instead, she was in for a more interminable time that usual.
    Suzanne took a deep, fortifying breath, inhaling the delicious fragrance of the flowers, and forced herself to get back to work.
     
    ***
     
    Brandon cracked open a beer and handed it to Hollis.
    “Here you go, Probie. Better make it last, ‘cause that’s all you get.” He grinned as Hollis rolled his eyes. The kid was good about taking the light-hearted ribbing. They all went through it when they first joined up, and anyone who couldn’t laugh at themselves wasn’t going to fit in real well with the crew.
    Fox whistled piercingly from the couch. “Yo, Probie, bring me one of those, wouldja?”
    That was part of being the new guy too. Hollis grabbed several beers and the opener and headed back into the living room, handing them out.
    Brandon chuckled and shook his head as the guys razzed Hollis about one thing or another. He enjoyed having them over like this, watching a game and drinking beer and shooting the shit. They didn’t have to worry about listening for an alarm. They could just kick back and relax, having a good time.
    Venatta was lamenting that his oldest son had begun dating and he’d had to have a serious talk with the kid, because he was terrified his boy would knock someone up. It was crazy to think V had a son old enough to knock someone up, though he was the oldest of the group, aside from the Chief, at forty.
    Hollis was, of course, the youngest, having just turned twenty-one.
    “Oh gawd, don’t even talk to me about dating.” Pete flopped back against the couch, spreading out his long legs and scrubbing a hand through his